Sam's captured mind
by brazur
Summary: Sam is captured by the Orc's with Merry and Pippin. He's changed but seems normaly and is reunited with Frodo and Gollum. He is noticeably changed to Frodo for the worse. While Gollum plots to murder the hobbits, Sam is doing a bit of his own plotting
1. prologue

Prologue

As Sam and Frodo travel their way towards Mordor, The Orcs that ambushed the fellowship from Isenguard captured Sam as well as Merry and Pippin. Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli failed to rescue the hobbits before they reached Isenguard, and the men of Rohan never tracked them. The Hobbits were succumbed to many tortures and every ounce of information was torn from their minds. Sauron knew that Frodo has the ring and that he plans to destroy it. The dark lord demands Sauroman to deploy extra troops to support Mordor to prevent this from happening. He orders the disposal of the Hobbits because they no longer have any more useful information for him. At the last minute Lord Elronds army of elves storm Isenguard and defeats him. The Hobbits are rescued and the ents are put in charge of the former wizard.

The hobbit are not the same however. They have all seemingly gone insane with madness. That is, all accept Sam. He seemed to be the only one who retained his sanity. Claiming that the thought of destroying the ring with Frodo kept him fighting, or so it seems.

After treating the hobbits for their injuries, only Sam was allowed to have an escort of fast moving elves takes him to find Frodo and continue the journey. After much insisting from Frodo, the elves leave and head back to Rivendell. Sam is alone with Frodo and Gollum.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"It's good to see you again Sam" Sam's face was scared from Isenguard and dirty from their travel to the hobbits. Sam was lean now instead of his plump self.

"It's good to be back Mr. Frodo." Sam looked around at the small camp. There were the remains of a fire under a tripod to hold kettle. An indent in the grass indicated where Frodo had slept for the night. A smaller, less noticeable one for Gollum.

"What has the fat hobbitses been up to? Sneaking away?" Gollum seemed to appear behind Frodo out of the tall grass. He carried two rabbits in his hand and his teeth were bloody for the one he had eaten.

"Shut it you. Still sneaking about I see."

"Sneaking? Sneaking! Smeagle has been nothing but nice to master and the precious and fat hobbits says he is sneaking?" Gollum tossed the rabbits onto the ground and sulked away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam spat

"Sneaking." Gollum sneered at Sam.

The hobbits watched as Gollum disappeared into the trees, quickly disappearing into the undergrowth.

"I still don't trust him Mr. Frodo. There's something about him that isn't right. I see it in his eyes, he's planning something. I don't like it."

"We have to trust him Sam. We need him to lead us to Mordor."

"That's what I'm afraid of Frodo. I think he's trying to get us caught." Sam picked up the rabbits and started to prepare them for their meal. Soon the sweet smells of a stew filled the air around them, their mouths watered in anticipation.

"Stupid hobbit. Always being mean to us. What's did we do to him?"

"Nothing my precious. He is suspicious of us."

"Yes. Always watching. Nothing to accuse us of but always suspicious."

"He needs to go precious… We'll take them to her and get rid of him there. Then the master will be by himself; and the precious for the taking."

A rustling in the bushes made Gollum stop, and look toward them. He wearily went over to them and peered inside. Nothing. He skulked away talking to himself about how he is planning to murder the hobbits, the small indent of a boot print went unnoticed to him.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The two hobbits finished their meal in peace. Nothing from Fangorn Forrest disturbed them, the trees eerily quiet.

The stew satisfied both of their grumbling bellies. Frodo needed it more than Sam, he'd been on his own longer, living off of elfish bread. Gollum had been of little help, only bringing him raw food. At times Frodo seemed too despaired from the ring to even eat.

After the kettle had been put away, Frodo asked what had happened to Sam, of all the terrible tortures that were inflicted upon him. Frodo grimaced at the descrption of them and regretted asking.

"Gollum's been gone for a while. Where do you think he's gotten to?" It's about sunset and he'd been gone for hours.

"I'm not sure Sam. He'll be back before morning. We head towards some marshes as Gollum said earlier."

"Well he better get back here quick. I don't like him sneaking around. He's got something planned MR. Frodo, I can feel it."

"Why are you so quick to accuse him of stuff Sam? I was alone with him for some time and he never tried anything. Learn to trust him Sam, he's our only hope of getting to Mount. Doom."

"I know Mr. Frodo, I just don't like him. He's always watching you, eyeing you up. It makes me suspicious. I made a promise you know."

"I know Sam. Let's just get some sleep."

The hobbits rolled out their sleeping matts and curled up under their cloaks. The dull glimmer of the embers provided a temporary night light until they fell asleep. They would shortly be dead and darkness would creep back in.

Some minutes later, the sound of Frodo snoring gently reached Sam's ears. Quietly, he rose from his spot, and walked towards Fangorn Forrest. "If Mr. Frodo won't keep Gollum close, I will."

As Sam reached the Forrest, he tried to locate Gollum's trail. The dim moon light thwarted his plans. He quickly returned to camp, trusting Frodo's judgment about Gollum returning.

Soon Sam's snoring signaled he was fast asleep. A hooded figure with yellow, cat like eyes, crawled backwards away from the camp. It re-entered Fangorn Forrest leaving light impressions of his boots on the ground. They would go unnoticed by the hobbits in broad day light, just like they did to Gollum.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gollum moved through the woods easily, talking to himself about how he was going to kill the hobbits. He is unaware of a mysterious figure moving from the camp back to his trail. It's soft footsteps making almost no in the thick undergrowth. The shadowy figure had gotten all the information he was getting tonight out of the hobbits. It only needed to know what marsh they were going to head for.

The shade of a figure wisped through the remaining ground between him and his target, stopping five meters behind him, listening. His cloak enveloping his body into the darkness around him making him useable. His head, as far back as it would go in the hood, so Gollum wouldn't see his piercing yellow eyes.

"What should we do with it after we wretch it from their cold, dead fingers?"

"We find ourselves a nice cave precious."

"A cave by a river with fishes?"

"Of course precious, all the fishes you want."

"I likes me a good, wriggly, fresh fish."

"Yes precious, we's all do. But we have to get rid of the hobbitses first, otherwise no fishes."

"Yes… Of course… Smegal knew that."

"Of course you did precious. All we have to do is get them to her. She will do the rest."

Smegal nodded earnestly. "Once they're dead, all we have to do is takes it from their dead bodies."

"Then it will be mine!... I mean ours."

"Of course you did." Smegal smiled dimwittedly at himself.

"All we has to do is cross the Dead Marshes, then up some stairs, and she will do the rest."

The shadowy figure stole off into the forest, south towards the dead marshes. He had to make a good lead on the party before daybreak. When the sun began to rise, he would find a hole, and cover himself completely in his cloak. The sun cause a great deal of pain to his eyes, which are for night seeing. He not only wanted to avoid day as much as possible, but he also needed to tell his master what he found. He'd be intrigued by Gollum's plan.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sam woke before Frodo, the sun just cresting over the horizon. The cool morning air giving him chills. He looked around the camp; the embers were reduced to ash, Frodo slept curled on his mat, and Gollum lay in a small ball on a rock by the camp, his shallow breathing gently wheezing through his squished nose.

Taking the small sack from his pack, Sam went towards Fangorn to find some fire wood. He hoped that he would stumble upon some robin's eggs, or wild vegetables to add to the previous night's stew.

Sam Stumbled ungracefully into Fangorn, roots being the agent of his tripping.

"Damn trees." He said angrily kicking at the ground. "I'm gunna get out of here as soon as I can. The place creeps me out."

Bending over to pick up some fallen sticks, he saw the tops of some carrots poking their greens out of the ground.

"Mr. Frodo will like these." Sam said as he dug them out.

He returned to camp to see Frodo awake, and unsuccessfully trying to restart their dead fire. He walked up next to him and dropped the sack of logs and sticks next to him.

"Let me do that Mr. Frodo, you sit and rest."

With those words, Frodo leaned against the rock Gollum slept on. Sam busied himself with the kindling and bow, trying to start a fire.

After a few minutes of vigorously working the bow, smoke began to rise from the small log he was using as a base. Once the fire was going good, Sam stepped back, admiring his work. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he felt the carrots he found. With some excitement, he pulled them out.

"You'll be happy Mr. Frodo, I found a rare treat for us." He pulled the carrots out of his pockets and showed them to Frodo.

"Well done Sam. It's good to have you back." Frodo said smiling at his friend.

It's good to be back Mr. Frodo.

The breakfast, with fresh carrots, invigorated the tired bodies. Gollum had woken shortly after the fire began to warm the stew.

"Are the hobbits ready yet? We must be going, losing time we are." Inquired Smegal, turning his head slightly like a playful puppy.

"In a few minutes you, we have to properly gather out stuff." Sam spat at Gollum.

Frodo gave Sam, a pained look, silently questioning Sam's hostility towards Smegal. Sam simply shook his head, dismissing Frodo's inquiry.

Twenty minutes later, the small party headed south, following Gollum towards the dead marshes, the soft grass by the forest being easy on the hobbits feet. The traveling was easy and moderately quick. They stopped every now and then to briefly rest and drink, perhaps take a nap on occasion.

Animals stopped and stared at the odd party, led by a gang lie, sickly looking Smegal. The hobbits following him seemed to trust him, not questioning the rout being taken. Some of the more quizzical animals, such as birds and rabbits, came closer to the strange group.

"Smegal, do I hear water?" The sound of running water grew ever prominent in their ears. They were coming close to Entwash.

"Yes master, we must cross the river to get to the marshes."

"What are these marshes anyways?" Sam questioned.

"A shortcut, orc's goes round them for miles because they do not know the secret ways. But Smegal will show you." Gollum went forward towards the river then turned east towars Emyn Muil.

The hobbits traveled east for a few days. Gollum, at Frodo's request, would go get fresh food every night for their meal.

Unknown to the hobbits, the hooded figure with yellow eyes would spy on their camp each night, gathering more information about them as they conversed. If the hobbits would have looked twenty meters to their right, they would see that were left on a predicted path and seemingly disappeared, into an odd shaped mound near their camp.

"Gollum, are those mountains?" Frodo asked, nodding his head towards the east.

"Yes master. We must go up then go down into the marshes." Gollum looked at Frodo, and seeing that he wanted more, continued. "Then after the marshes there's another shortcut"

"What's the shortcut?"

"Up some stairs, then through a tunnel."

"Is it safe?"

"O yes master, very safe, if you know where to go."

Gollum skulked off in search of food. Sam sat by a faggot, trying to lite it, but constantly listening.

"I think he's up to something Mr. Frodo." Sam said, then went back to lighting a fire.


	6. Chapter 5

**I do not claim any of the LOTR characters, but Xamer and Zayn are mine**

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Chapter 5

The shadowy figure treaded softly over the grass towards a solitary tree by Sarn Gebir, the moonlight barely illuminating it. He looked behind him, to make sure he wasn't being followed, then jumped into the tree with feline like speed.

The larger of the two figures sat expectantly in the tree, it's long, red, cloak waving gently in the breeze. The first figure reached the top of the tree, and on a branch next to the red cloaked figure bowed.

"What news do you bring Xamer?" The red cloaked figure asked.

"The hobbits are heading towards Emyn Muil, then over the dead marshes towards Mordor Lord Zayn."

Zayn thought over the information, thinking over all the ancient ways into Mordor. He looked out into the midnight sky and studied the stars. It was some time before Xamer spoke to his master again.

"Do you have any orders for me?" Xamer, normally a deep, soothing voice, quivered at addressing his master before he was spoken to. he feared that he would be punished for doing so.

Zayn sat for a little while longer, pondering what the next course should be. Slowly, Zayn turned his head and looked at Xamer.

"Yes, continue to follow the hobbits and report back to me once they come to the dead marshes. You'll find me at Cair Andias, be sure I'm not left waiting."

The conversation ended, and Xamer droped out of the tree. Quickly he went back to the hobbits camp. He crawled to his previous hiding spot and lay there observing the hobbits. The new arrival, Sam, bugged him. Not being there when Sam was captured, e thought there seemed to be another figure hidden behind his eyes, something or someone who shouldn't be there. He turned the thought over in his mind, thinking of all those who can poses and with the power to do so. Xamer thought of the newly empowered form of Sauron, the great eye, and then determined he was not powerful enough to do so, yet. The sense of power behind it seemed to be familiar to him, but he could not remember from where.

Cursing himself for not saying something to Zayn, he backed slowly away from the camp to his hiding spot. He threw his cloak over him and closed his eyes till the next night.

The sun was just rising over the peaks of Emyn Muil when Gollum woke up. Strange images of creates stalking the night, swam into his still dreaming head. He shook himself and took a deep breath of fresh air to clear his mind.

Looking around, he saw the hobbits were still asleep. Walking over to Frodo on all fours, he went to wake him. He reached out a hand to shake him, and saw the ring hanging out of his shirt, tempting him to preemptively take it. He reached out a hand and gently shook Frodo. The hobbit woke almost immediately, looking up at Smegal.

"It's time to get up, losing precious day, far to go today." Smegal smiled a toothless grin at him, hoping Frodo hadn't sense him observing the ring.

"Alright Smegal, give me a few minutes. Go wake Sam."

Smegal trotted lightly over to the other sleeping hobbit, and nudged him with his foot. "Wake up hobbit, master is ready to go. We can't be late, now can we?"

"Late for what?" Sam questioned as he rolled over, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes.

Smegal gave him a half smile, that non-verbally communicated he was hiding something. "What are you hiding, you?" Sam shot at him.

"Smegal is not hiding anything. Here Smegal is, showing hobbits secret ways into Mordor, and hobbit says he's hiding something." Smegal slowly backed away from Sam.

"Yeah, you heard me. What are you hiding?" Sam said in a slightly raised voice.

"That's enough Sam, leave him be." Frodo interjected.

"But he's hiding something Mr. Frodo. You didn't see the way he looked at me." SAm started towards Gollum, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"That's enough Sam. Let's get moving."

The hobbits trekked for miles before they finally took a break. The mountains in front of them seemed to shoot straight up like teeth. Very little of anything seemed to grow on the steep slopes, including animals, who seemed to avoid the place completely.

Gollum lead the party towards a space between two peaks of Emyn Muil, making his way towards a small valley.

The ground they walked on grew rougher, filled with more pebbles and large rocks. The plush grass disappeared al together, and they were left walking on sharp rocks. The rocks dug into their thick skin on their feet, leaving them with small cuts and bruises.

Sam wondered if Gollum was truly taking them the quickest way, or if it was the safest. He hoped that there would be no orc's they'd have to run from, the sharp rocks would make it difficult and the lack of training in sword play would be fatal. Many times Sam, looking around at their surroundings, thought he saw figures darting between rocks, but there was no sounds to prove what he saw.

The sharp rocks proved problematic at night, the lack of vegetation provided no kindling or firewood. The hobbits were exposed to the cold night air that at times was refreshing, but proved to be despairing. Along with the winding paths, the sharp rocks, and freezing nights, Gollum did little to find protective campsites. Most of the time, they slept exposed on the faint paths they traveled, forcing the hobbits to take turns on watch duty.

After a few weeks of traveling in the inhospitable mountains, the hobbits came out on the other side. The foul odors of the marsh burned their noses like rotten eggs. The marshes seemed to extend forever, the mountains surrounding Mordor too far over the horizon to see.

"How far do the marshes go for Smegal?" Frodo inquired.

"It goes for leagues and leagues master. you must follow me."

Sam groaned and trekked after Frodo and Gollum. He surveyed the marshes, thinking to himself, hat at least the ground will be soft.

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**Please review my story. I need to know whether or not it's any good or not and what needs improving. It doesnt have to be long, but please take afew minutes and write one.**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sauron's power was slowly coming back to him. The power of his current form grew more powerful, growing brighter and seeing further. He constantly searched for his ring, the other half of him. He had poured so much into it, with it; he would be able to give himself the physical body he desired. Growing more impatient each day constantly looking for his other half, unknowing that it is slowly moving towards him, but his power is not great enough to sense the rings presence. If he had been strong enough, the hobbits would soon be rooted out but the Nazgul. The wraith would rip them apart and take the ring back to Sauron, all would be lost.

Sauron was too focused on the west where the immediate danger lied, even if it was small. The men at helm deep had been defeated by Isenguard, and Isenguard conquered by the elves and handed over to the ents. The elves had grown strong in their dormant years, breading and training like insects defending a nest. The elves needed to be squashed, and quickly. He reached out with his mind and called upon his highest general to come to him. Mordor would make a moves towards Minas Tirith, and then towards Isenguard.

Morgran, the highest general, trotted up the tower towards his lord. The orc was of a short, but well-built frame. He had proven himself in battle multiple times. His skill was commendable to Sauron, but legend amount the legions of orc's in his abode. If the moment came, he, Sauron, could easily strike him down. All he needed was his ring and then none could stand against him, not even Lord Elrond in his elven sanctuary on the edge of the misty mountains. Soon his hand would extend even to the plump hobbits in the shire. He chuckled to himself at the thought of their blood watering the land, the cry of women and children screaming out of fear. The thought of these terrified, almost useless people, was humorous to him.

Morgran arrived at the platform in front of him. He bowed to one knee and remained there, Sauron's chuckle audible to the general but not to the orc's below. He muffled his amusement so that the orc's wouldn't flee in fear of an insane ruler.

"You summoned me master?" Morgrath stated. He said it in the form of a question but it was a statement. He in fact knew he had been summoned, and he darted away from the charts and maps he was studying to avoid punishment for keeping Sauron waiting.

"**Indeed I did. Take half the legions and mass an attack again minas Tirith. The humans grow too comfortable in their mountain fortress. Take the orc's from Osgiliath as the main force and supplement the rest from the legions here."**

"Yes my lord. Do you have any orders for the Nazgul to accompany us? Morgran inquired, hoping that his master would say no. the Nazgul and their wraith riders scared the simple minded orc's that the legions. They personally set him on edge. They carried themselves with a sense of arrogance. Even though their rank was below his, they thought they were superior and were slow in carrying out his order, sometimes not doing them at all. Punishment was outside of being useful, their bodies were unharmed by weapons, having them flogged would do nothing.

"**Perhaps. Don't fail me, or it will turn bad for you. In fact, if you fail, don't bother coming back at all. Die on the battle field with the rest."** Sauron turned his eye away from the platform and started his systematic search among the legions, peering into their possessions, hoping that one of the hobbits had dropped the ring and one of the filth below had picked it up. How foolish of them to try and keep it hidden he thought. The torture he would ensue on the unfortunate soul who possessed it would have them wishing they were never brought into existence.

**"If you find hobbits, halflings anywhere, capture them and bring them back to me, Un-looted and unharmed. If you fail that may be the very thing that saves your miserable hide."** Sauron said without looking down at his general.

"Yes my lord." Morgran said, not daring to look into the eye. Doing so would constitute endless torture. it would be all too easy of a punishment to simply kill you, you had to pay for your arrogance.

Morgran stayed bowed for a few moments seeing if there was anything else Sauron wanted him to do, then he got up and keeping his head bowed, he backed away from the eyes and turned and went down the stairs. The attack on men would soon begin and their downfall seemed imminent.

The orc's in Helmsdeep would stay put until Minas Tirith was captured, then the war on the elves would begin. Their downfall would be a long campaign. Their numbers were greatly less than the armies of Sauron, but their skill and strength is much greater than mere orc's.

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**Please review my story. I need to know whether or not it's any good or not and what needs improving. It doesnt have to be long, but please take afew minutes and write one, even if it is negative**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Xamer backed away from his hiding spot on the platform, Sauron and Morgran just finished their meeting. The word of the armies or Mordor attacking the remaining men was intriguing, his master would want to know about it. It was time for him to report back to Zayn, the hobbits had crossed over Emyn Muil and were now headed into the dead marshes.

He stood, unmoving, for a few minutes, then backed away towards the far side of the platform. The great eye could not see him, and was far too distracted searching the orc's below. Xamer felt the back of his boot hang over the edge of the platform, then platform, then slowly came to all fours and lowered himself down. His treck down towards the ground would be a long and perilous one. It had taken him many hours to climb the tall tower, which had little hand holds, with seldom and ledges to rest on. The journey down would be a far more treacherous one than anyone should attempt. However, Xamer was a skilled climber, as a young boy, he would climb almost every day. Sometimes he'd be climbing to escape a bully, or just to escape the world in general.

After four hours of climbing down, two times as much climbing up, Xamer's boots finally hit the ground. He staggered slightly, and then quickly regained his footing. He looked around inquisitively seeing if anyone had seen his descent. Luckily for them, no one had. He took his hand off the hilt of his dagger; he didn't need much else to dispatch a few enemies.

Wearily, he set off towards the south, always being cautious of eyes trying to look at him. His cloak was pulled around him and he glided like a swift shadow across the land, his cloak making his appear to be a hallucination. His cloak was specially designed to blend into the landscape around him. Its patters of green, grey, and purple blended almost perfectly with forest, plains, and mountains. Those who did manage to see his shadows figure wisp across the land, lost it as soon as they saw it. Within the blink of an eye he would be able to blend into the landscape by standing still. Every now and then someone would be able to make out the figure even when he was stock still, but never lived to tell the tale. Secrecy is a main aspect in his race, they've survived long since anyone dared to explore the inhospitable north, and very few people knew about them. His race is an ancient race, prevailing against the dragons long before the first man made a sword. Their war weapons were more advanced then primitive swords and arrows. He hoped one day to be able to return to his snowy home land, he wished to be able to join a campaign against a dragon nest, and plunder it's gold.

The riches of Xamer's homeland make the dwarf's hordes of treasure seem insignificant. The sheer amount of treasure recovered from the multiple dragons was enough to drive any dwarf insane with envy. The mountain halls, and mines, were the best in the world. The dwarfs had no idea about the amount of wealth hidden beneath the mountains in the far north, if they had, their race would have left long ago to bold the unforgiving north.

Xamer's home was considered small in the eyes of his people, but it would fit many dwarf mountain fortresses inside it. His family was a rather small family, it consisted of him and his parents. He had had a brother, but after going on a dragon raiding party against Smaug, the entire party never returned. The dragon had lived on a rather insignificant pile of gold that was ignored for some years. During those years, he had grown stronger and was at the peak of his power when he took flight to ravage the lonely mountain. The people were rejoicing when they saw him leave, and the king, feeling terrible for ignoring the dragon for so long, made the division of wealth equal to all who lost a loved one. His family lived in a mansion, so to speak, near the wall of the mountain. They had four bedrooms and two bathrooms. A magnificent, rose red, carpet lay on the floor, touching wall to wall in all the rooms. It had gold thread weaved into the carpet, depicting the family's history through the years. Outside the mansion, was a massive hallway, the main hallway in the entire mountain fortress. Its width was fifty meters and its height was over three hundred meters high. The main hall was laced with tendrils of gold, and stretched for miles under the mountain. Xamer had lived his whole life in this part of the mountain, and hadn't been allowed to roam the rest of it like his friends. He had heard tales of the of the bridges that were miles below the entrance, that connected parts of the mines. Many of the mines were now old and void of and precious metal. Now homes were being carvedinto the side of the shafts for the miners. Xamer had heard tales of mithril trails leading miners on long excavations of the entire side of the wall for months on end.

The cool touch of his finger on his chest spanned him out of his day dream, he had been fingering the mithril chainmail that lay beneath his shirt. He looked around at his surrounding, unaware of how long it was he was daydreaming, and found a small hole in the side of a rock jutting out of the ground to sleep in. He closed his eyes and quickly found some sleep.

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**Please rate and review so i can improve what needs improsing**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Xamer approached a small inn in Cair Andias, the dry dirt puffing under his footsteps. It had been a few weeks since he had seen his master last, he hoped he hadn't been kept waiting.

He walked up to the door and pushed it open. The smell of alcohol, smoke, and tobacco hit his nose all at once; it made a gross smell to him. Walking over to a stool at the bar, he glanced around the room. He didn't see Zayn anywhere in the small room. He sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to approach him. His hood was still obscuring the details of his appearance, giving him a negative sense of danger to the fellow patrons.

"Anything I can get for you?" The inn owner said from a few paces to his left. His voice seemed shaky and a small dagger was hastily conceived beneath his apron. He seemed to be overexerting himself on trying to get a particular glass clean with a greasy rag, telling Xamer that he made the man nervous. That's good, he though.

Xamer motioned for the man to come closer with a gloved hand, keeping his motion to a minimal. The man slowly edged closer, unsure of Xamers intentions. Not being able to see his face added to the sense of unease he already had from him. This strange, hooded man calling him closer made him tense.

"I'm looking for someone." Xamer said almost in a little more than a whisper.

"Who would that be?" The man edged uneasily; unsuccessfully keeping his voice down, but ended it being said for more ears to hear than Xamer wanted.

"Keep your voice down you fool!" Xamer spat, in a harsh tone.

"Yes- of course." The innkeeper stood there awkwardly ashamed that someone, appearing to be so young, had been so cutting.

"I'm looking for someone." Xamer began again. "Someone in a cloak like mine, - but red."

"What's it worth to you? Many people come through here. I don't keep track of what they're wearing." The innkeeper looked hesitantly around the rom. Many eyes from the burly, uncivilized men look inquisitively at them.

Xamer looked up at him without moving his head, but his eyes. "What's your name?

"Excuse me?" The innkeeper was taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "ER – Martin."

"Well then Martin, you should tell me where my friend is." Xamer, barely moving his hand, slipped a gold coin from a pouch in his sleeve and played with it between his fingers; the shiny metal glinting off the fire drawing Martin's attention to it. He gazed at the coin for a while enthralled with the well-polished gold.

"He may have come through here." Martin said, keeping some of the details in hope of another gold coin appearing from his sleeve.

"You think he came through? I need a more definitive answer than that Martin." Martin said, still whispering, hiding the coin from Martin's eyes under his hand.

Martin stared longingly at the stranger's hand, wanting the coin underneath it. Money like this didn't come into his tavern very often, especially of this high quality gold. The coin hidden under the strangers hand would double the income for the next few days. He thought of all the ways he could help his family, his little ones needing new cloths, his wife needing some new kitchen utensils, and a new pair of boots for him, with some profit left over. His heart sank as he saw Xamer slowly retract his hand with the coin still in it, and put it back in his inner sleeve pouch. "Maybe I do remember," Martin said, "But here is not the place, too many brutes here tonight. Go upstairs and to the last door on the right, lock the door behind you. I'll be there in about thirty minutes. I'll knock onetime slow, three fast, one slow, and then two fast again so you'll know it's me."

Xamer got up from the stool and headed to the stairs, two men sitting in a table close to them eyed him menacingly. "Got any more pretty coins for us?" One of the men said standing up, blocking his way to the stairs, almost falling over from being drunk.

Xamer eyed the drunk man and saw the small knife he held in his hand. With the man being so drunk it would be easy to disable the drunkard. With a swift kick, Xamer knocked the knife from the man's hand. The drunken man staggered from the force, and speed, of the kick from the seemingly slender figure. The man charged at him blindly, hoping to regain some of his dignity from being disarmed so easily. He tried a big sweeping right hook that was easily avoided. Xamer punched the man with a quick jab in the stomach, then a quick uppercut on the man's jaw when he doubled over. The drunken man staggered a few paces backwards, and then collapsed onto the ground unconscious.

The entire room looked at the quick confrontation in silence. Out of nowhere, an old man began to laugh, and was slowly joined by the other patrons. The man, who had just been so easily conquered, was known for causing trouble. Those who stood against him often lost their money and were bested after a short fight. No one had ever taken him down so easily and with such speed before. The thought of how he wouldn't be back for some time because of his hurt dignity and pride was amusing to the old man. Many of the, now laughing, patrons knew he would not start anything for a long while in fear that another person could beat him so easily.

Xamer climbed up the grimy stairs. There was a lose handle on the left side, that had all too obviously had carried almost the full weight of many drunkards. He reached the top of the stairs and walked to the end of the short hallway, then turned left into the small room. It was furnished with a simple bed with a rickety frame, a small night stand, a trunk at the foot of the bed, a very stained carpet on the floor, and a chair in the corner.

He locked the door and strode over to the chair, the bed seemed too unstable for him, and sat down. He leaned the chair, on its back two legs, against the wall and sat there waiting for Martin's knock. He wouldn't be disturbed by anyone tonight, not after the display of his fighting skills.

Xamer closed his eyes at the thought that he was going to be undisturbed for some time, and tried to catch some much needed sleep.

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**Please review my stories. any and all input is welcome.**


	10. Chapter 9

A light tap on the door woke Xamer from his sleep. The thirty minutes Martin had said he'd see him were long past. HE shoved his head deeper into his hood, and answered the door. He kept a foot behind the boor to stop the door from being shoved open if anyone was trying to catch him off guard. He opened the door a fraction of an inch and peered into the gloomy hallway. Martin was standing outside the door glistening as he slightly perspired; the nervousness was still about him. "My apologies it took me so long young master, it didn't die down as fast I though it would. After that spectacle, I thought people would clear out quickly." Martin quickly explained.

"No matter" Xamer said, removing his foot from behind the door and opening the door more. He motioned for Martin to come in. The nervous tavern keeper hesitated, then came in. He figured if he was going to be killed, he already would have been. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. The strange man uneased him. He wasn't sure that he was even a man.

Xamer, after locking the door again, walked back to his chair and sat down in it. He leaned it back on the two legs against the wall. He stared from underneath his hood at the man, his arms crossed. "Tell me what you know."

Martin looked into the hood of the strangers hood, not being able to see anything. He had heard stories of wraith traveling the land, looking for something. He thought that maybe this was one of them. He remembered hearing about how they never showed their faces from their hood, mainly because nothing was there. The fact that this hooded figure did the same thing made him suspicious. He hadn't heard of the big horses they rode, or that their voices were like hisses and not deep like Xamer's. "I- I want to know who you are first." Martin managed to say.

Xamer slightly tilted his head to one side, the action almost unnoticable. "That is of no importance to you. You've been paid already, tell me what I want to know." His fingers gently caressed the long dagger under his cloak. He moved his arm's so Martin could see the pommel of it. He wanted the inn keeper to be scared of him and tell him what he wanted to know. He saw Martin glance down at the newly exposed area. His eyes slightly widened and he seemed to shrink before him.

"He was here a few days ago. He didn't stay to get a room, he just left into the night. He seemed to be looking for someone." Martin said. The threat of the over sized dagger alarmed him. He remembered how easily the man standing in his way was taken down, and that was without these weapons. In fact, to him, it didn't even seem like the young man before him was even trying.

"Do you know which direction he went?"

"East it think. I believe he said something about coming back later. I couldn't quite understand him. He spoke fast and his words were quiet."

"Don't lie to me" Xamer calmly said. "I don't enjoy your deception. You will tell me what I want o know, or I'll have to peel it out of you." Xamer loosened his dagger from it's sheath.

Martin slowly backed away towards the door. "I meant no disrespect. Another bloke came through here. He was wearing a black cloak like yours, but with gold trim on it. He was looking for the same guy as you are. He told me not to say anything to anyone." Martin stammered. He thought his life was about to come to an end

"Gold trim you say?" Xamer questioned getting up from his seat.

"Yes. Gold trim. It looked like real gold too."

Xamer knew who it was. It was one of the scouts that the king of his people sent out to track the whereabouts of his informants. He walked over to the window and opened it. He looked up and down the street and saw no one. He slipped out of the window and dropped into the street. He quickly went into the shadow of the building and disappeared, the inn keeper was still standing by the door with fright.

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R&R please

A/N: This story isn't abandoned, I'm trying to find some inspiration to write more


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